


I Still Hate You, Though

by AccioInvisibilityCloak



Category: Nancy Drew (Video Games), Nancy Drew - Carolyn Keene, Nancy Drew: Girl Detective (Books)
Genre: Asexual Nancy Drew, Background Ned/Nancy, Bisexual Deirdre Shannon, Closeted Character, Enemies to Lovers, F/F, Kissing, Lesbian George Fayne, Queer Themes, Set in the Nancy Drew: Girl Detective book series modern verse, Trans Girl Bess Marvin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-25
Updated: 2016-07-25
Packaged: 2018-07-26 14:40:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,167
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7578064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AccioInvisibilityCloak/pseuds/AccioInvisibilityCloak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Deirdre Shannon is in the closet, and has no plans to leave it. She's had crushes on girls before and managed to hide them, so it should be no big deal when she realizes that she's falling again. But this crush isn't some unattainable straight girl, oh no. This crush is George Fayne. Intelligent, funny, snarky George Fayne, who loves girls. And hates Deirdre's guts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Still Hate You, Though

**Author's Note:**

> I am a sucker for the enemies to lovers/enemies to friends to lovers trope, and as soon as I came out as bi, I started seeing F/F shipping potential everywhere, even in my childhood fandoms (if you could call Nancy Drew that). Anyway, George and Deirdre's constant bickering in the Nancy Drew: Girl Detective books just SCREAMS sexual tension to me, and I was so disappointed that there is literally no fic for them on here. So I wrote one. Purely self indulgent fluff. Always fun to take a childhood favorite and make it gayer. (And yes Ned is the Obligatory Str8 in this group, lol.) Anyway, I hope you enjoy!
> 
> Oh, also, I'm cis, so you're welcome to yell at me if I said anything insensitive about trans girl Bess. I want to continue to learn and do the best I can to positively represent trans people and all kinds of LGBT+ individuals in my writing. Thanks! And thanks for reading!

 

*******

 

            Deirdre scowls at the table in the corner of the diner, where Nancy Drew and Ned Nickerson are softly laughing and holding hands. Ned leans in to kiss Nancy on the cheek, and Deirdre is so used to being jealous, so prepared for the sting of knowing she isn't the one Ned wants to kiss- but she doesn't feel anything. 

She wants so badly to be jealous of Nancy. She wants to be in love with Ned Nickerson, in love with a boy, like she's supposed to be. He's still incredibly attractive to her, good enough to eat- but romantically? Nothing. Deirdre Shannon looks at Ned, and she feels nothing. No more crush on Ned. It’s just… gone. If she’s honest with herself, it has been gone for quite a while now.

Suddenly, Nancy's pulling away from her longtime boyfriend, staring at her phone, and Deirdre can hear the great girl detective making her excuses, begging Ned to understand she has a crime scene to investigate. She's _sooo_   sorry, it won't happen again. Ned is either completely spineless or just genuinely enjoys following his girlfriend around like a puppy, because all he does is grin and offer to come help investigate. 

"Babe, it's no big deal, I promise,” Ned says mildly, and Nancy beams at him.

Deirdre rolls her eyes. 

"You're the best, Ned. Can we take your car, so we won't be recognized? Bess and George will meet us here in a few minutes," Nancy says, and that's the last that Deirdre hears of their conversation, because she _feels_ every syllable of that name, right down to her bones. 

The fluttery, embarrassing, exciting sensation of a crush. The pinch of jealousy that Nancy has the object of Deirdre's affections wrapped around her little finger. The hopelessness and frustration and _wanting_. All of it comes rushing back through Deirdre, just at the sound of that name. 

_George._

Next moment, the tall, athletic brunette herself walks through the door, eyes lit up with the excitement of having another investigative mission to undertake. George Fayne saunters into the diner with her fancy short undercut and her glinting brown eyes and her boyish laugh, and Deirdre _feels_ it like an itch she can't scratch, a precious thing she wants but can't have. Her father's money and her own popularity can’t make George Fayne stop hating her, can't make her want Deidre in return.

Deirdre can't seem to keep from staring as George and her shorter, blonder cousin Bess cluster around Nancy and Ned. Deirdre can't hear their muttering, but when they break the huddle and head for the door, George spots her. And glares. 

Bizarrely, Deirdre just wants to look sheepishly down into her milkshake glass and make herself invisible until George stops staring at her. But that would be letting her guard down, revealing her weakness. The mystery posse over there would get suspicious.

So instead, she puts on her best you-don't-matter haughty expression, and holds her head up high as she saunters over to their table.

“What do you think you’re looking at, _Georgia_?” she sneers. “Wishing for some actual fashion sense? I hate to break it to you, but I just don’t think you could rock this skirt like I can. How tragic for you.”

Deirdre does a little twirl and rocks her hips towards George, who gapes at her, completely forgetting whatever return insult has been waiting on her tongue. Bess, Nancy, and Ned’s conversation tapers off, and they all look up, confused. All eyes on Deirdre. Exactly the way she likes it.

She pushes past the girls, stalking out to her car without a word. She ends up hiding behind her own tinted windows, dying of embarrassment, wonderful fire sparking through her body from where, only for a moment, she had been flush against George's side. 

Pathetic.

 

*******

 

           It isn’t that Deirdre’s in denial or anything. Really. She’s always known, somewhere inside, that she’s bisexual. There have been plenty of boys, hot ones, eager to please the most popular girl in school- but there have also been girls. Deirdre can’t remember a time when she didn’t find women just as beautiful and desirable and dateable as men. Back in junior high, she’d had a bit of a thing for Nancy, even, though she’ll never admit it.

But River Heights is a small town. Sure, most of its population is relatively forward-thinking, but that doesn’t mean everyone would understand if their queen bee suddenly decided to come out of the closet. Some of her friends would definitely be weird about it, and her parents would not be thrilled, Deirdre knows. She couldn’t stand to lose her popularity, her social standing, possibly even her family and home. Deirdre doesn’t want to be different or controversial, and she doesn’t want to confront her crushes on girls. She can drop hints, and obsess over Emily from Pretty Little Liars, and cut her dark hair short for comfort and ease of care. But she can’t come out, not for real. There’s just too much risk.

That’s why it has been so comforting to hold onto her crush on the unattainable Ned Nickerson for so long. If she kept up the pretense of loving a taken guy, she would never have to actually, seriously date anyone. She would never have to admit to herself what she already knows- it isn’t Ned she wants.

The worst part is that this isn’t even like all those times Deirdre has secretly harbored crushes on straight girls, who wouldn’t have liked her back, even if they did know she was bi. This crush is different, because George isn’t straight.

Deirdre envies George Fayne for the support group she has, for her ability to be herself, openly lesbian and confident about it. Deirdre doesn’t have the full force of the River Heights High School GSA behind her like George does. She supposes that would make things easier.

If only George and the mystery posse didn’t hate Deirdre so much, maybe she could actually be friends with them. She knows it’s entirely her fault, she’s been treating them like shit and trying to steal Nancy’s boyfriend for just about as long as they’ve known each other. But she’s pretty sure she’d get along great with Bess Marvin, George’s cousin. Beautiful blonde Bess loves fashion and shopping and cute boys, three of Deirdre’s favorite topics, so there’s no reason they couldn’t bond over those. Bess is always organizing fun events for the GSA, and trying to get them to change that acronym to be more inclusive of her and other trans students who need support. Deirdre pretends to hate the mystery posse, but she’s always admired Bess’s style and her strength. Even if she is annoyingly perky all the time.

And then there’s Nancy, of course. The darling of River Heights, everyone’s favorite Ace Detective, Nancy Drew. Her coming out as asexual last year hasn’t changed a thing- Nancy owns this town. She’s out and proud and she gets to spend almost all her time with George Fayne. Deirdre is so jealous, she could cry.

Maybe that’s why she’s so mean to them. She tries not to think about it, to stay out of their way. Which is easy enough, until her father brings home a mystery.

 

*******

 

          “So, Mr. Shannon, when exactly did you first start to notice the sabotage?” Nancy Drew asks cheerfully.

Dad begins to answer, and Deirdre fidgets uncomfortably in her seat.

She’s sitting in on Dad’s meeting with Nancy and her friends, who have finished the case they were working on the other night in the diner. Mr. Shannon is currently hiring them to solve another one.

Dad is a lawyer, just like Carson Drew, and lately, someone has been sabotaging and ransacking his office. He’s moved his most important papers and files into the safe in his study, so that the saboteur can’t reach them, but he’s worried about further break-ins, and the police can’t do anything for him, because nothing is missing and there’s been no significant monetary damage. Yet.

Deirdre should be worried about her father, about the safety of his law office and the house. Instead, she’s freaking out inside, every single time the girl beside her shifts, or speaks, or breathes. George Fayne is sitting next to her, feverishly typing case notes on a password protected, extra secure iPad.

She and her friends are spending the night to investigate. Here. _In her house._ Deirdre thinks she might literally die of embarrassment.

This feeling is compounded when her dad expresses worry about Deirdre’s safety, and Nancy promises to assign one of the girls to guard her room. Deirdre can’t decide whether to snort at the idea of three teenage girls being any sort of protection against thieves and vandals unknown, or pray to every celestial being that her guardian won’t be-

“George! You can do it, right?” Bess chirps, with what Deirdre swears is a wink. Deirdre and George both groan loudly.

“Why do I have to-” George begins.

“Daddy! I don’t need a babysitter!” Deirdre exclaims.

As Nancy suppresses a smile and George rolls her eyes, Mr. Shannon gives his daughter a stern look. “Now, DeeDee, these nice girls are your friends, and they’re doing me a favor. I won’t have you going anywhere alone, until I find out who is trying to ruin my practice. Be nice, and show George to your room. I have business to attend to. Thank you again, Nancy.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Shannon,” she says politely, ignoring George’s pouting.

Deirdre stalks out of the room, the mystery posse in tow. She knows her father well enough to know when she’s dismissed.

 

*******

 

         “Whoa!” George gasps, spotting the fancy new Mac computer sitting on Deirdre’s pink and white painted desk. “Can I-”

“You have a job to do, oh cousin of mine,” Bess singsongs as she and Nancy head out to patrol the rest of the house and grounds. “Don’t forget that!”

“Shut up,” George grumbles. “DeeDee, can I please-”

Deirdre raises an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“Okay, okay, sorry! _Deirdre_ , may I please use this awesome computer? I only have PCs at home. This is incredible!” In her excitement, George has all but forgotten to be sarcastic and rude. Deirdre tries not to smile at how cute George is when she’s all excited. She can’t resist her.

“Fine, I guess you can use my computer,” Deirdre sighs. “But no funny business!”

“Like what?” George gives her a confused look. Deirdre blushes and shrugs.

“I don’t know, I was joking.” She flops down across her queen sized bed as George logs into Facebook and starts poking around. “What are you doing?”

“I brought my own laptop for research on the case, but I just wanted to see what this screen was like,” George babbles, forgetting who she’s talking to in her excitement. “The visuals are so high def! Look, I can see way more of Burt Eddleton’s profile picture than I’ve ever wanted to see. His boyfriend seems to like it, though.”

“You really are always this geeky about computers, aren’t you?” Deirdre asks, hoping that her voice sounds more impressed than judgemental. No such luck.

“You really are always this obsessed with pink and ponies and fashion, aren’t you?” George sasses her back, gesturing around at the room.

“I wish I could redecorate, actually. This room hasn’t changed since I was seven,” Deirdre sighs. “My parents just want me to be in elementary school forever, I guess. But this isn’t me anymore, you know?”

George stares at her.

“Wow. I, uh, I can’t believe I just told you that.”

“No, it’s okay,” George says. “I know exactly how you feel. My parents are all weird sometimes about me not being into this stuff, like Bess is. She’s their favorite niece, but I guess I’m just not the daughter they wanted. Or expected, or whatever. But it’s okay. You’re allowed to change, you know? Your parents will get used to it.”

“Wow, are we actually having a moment, here?” Deirdre gives an awkward, strained laugh. “Who knew?”

“Weird, isn’t it?” George grins. “Hey, I’ll get my laptop booted up, and then would you maybe want to go over the list of your dad’s staff with me? You’ll know them better than I will, and I’m trying to eliminate potential suspects. If you’re not afraid of a little workplace gossip, anyway?”

“Are you kidding? I live for gossip!” Deirdre scoots over and pats the empty space next to her on the bed. Before she knows it, George Fayne is stretched out on her stomach beside Deirdre, in her bed. She’s so close, Deirdre can feel her body heat. She could even take George’s hand, if she had the guts.

Instead, she breathes, steadying herself, and prepares to try and help solve a mystery. She ignores her rapidly accelerating heartbeat. It’s no big deal. She’s just spending time, alone, with George Fayne. And they’re actually getting along for once. It’s a miracle.

For the next few hours, Deirdre is on cloud nine.

 

            “DeeDee. There is no way that Mrs. Nelson’s favorite nail salon has anything to do with her involvement in this case. That’s just stupid! I get that you like makeup, but you have to focus-”

“No,” Deirdre cuts the other girl off. “ _You_ have to focus, _Georgia_! Look, you spent all that time hacking into the office’s online calendar, and now you won’t even consider any of these important appointments!”

“Nail polish is not-”

“The nail polish isn’t what I’m talking about! God, you really don’t think I know shit about detecting, do you?” Deirdre snaps.

“Maybe that’s because you don’t know anything about anything besides being a nasty stuck-up jerk!”

The room goes deathly quiet. Deirdre is reeling, heartbroken. “So at last the truth comes out.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Like you don’t know?” Deirdre rolls off the bed and stomps across the room. Remembering she isn’t supposed to leave, she stumbles over to sit in her swivel chair. “I knew this was too good to be true! You’re only here because my father is paying you. We hate each other, that’s not news, Georgia,” Deirdre sneers.

“I… DeeDee, I don’t hate you!” George exclaims. “I mean, sure, you’re stuck-up, spoiled, rude, obnoxious…”

“Wow, okay, tell me how you really feel,” Deirdre chokes out a laugh, feeling a furious blush rising in her cheeks.

“Look, I don’t know what I feel,” George shakes her head, running her fingers through her short hair, the gesture helping expend some of the restless, nervous energy pent up inside her. “You’ve been nothing but awful to my friends and I for years, but lately… it’s like you’re a different person. You’re less condescending, less judgemental, and you’ve stopped trying to discredit Nancy at every turn. Ned even told me you’ve stopped trying to flirt with him so much. Something is changing. And I… I really like that change.”

“I like it too,” Deirdre admits. “And I like _you_. A lot. I’m sorry for calling you Georgia so much. And for… all the other stuff.”

“Deirdre Shannon, apologizing for her crimes? Now I know I’m dreaming,” George smirks. “Thanks. I’m sorry too.”

“Wait… did you just say that you dream about me?” Deirdre raises an eyebrow. “What kinds of dreams?”

“Well… what do _you_ dream about?” George says with a smirk, turning the question back on her. Deirdre shrugs. The tension in this moment is too much for her. Another moment and all her hidden feelings will come spilling out, so she looks away and changes the subject, eyes falling on George’s laptop computer on the bed.

“Umm… Oh! Mrs. Nelson! She always gets her nails done at the beauty parlor here in town.”

“Wait, you have dreams about Mrs. Nelson?” George snorts. Deirdre laughs.

“No, no, listen! She gets her nails and hair and all that done here in River Heights. But this past week, the local salon has been closed for repairs! I know, because I go there too. She’s had to punch out early at least once this week and leave the office to the interns, so she could drive to the next town over for her very important beauty needs. She couldn’t have been the after-hours saboteur!” Deirdre tosses her head to get her hair out of her eyes and grins. “I am an excellent detective. Does that answer your questions?”

“You’re kidding, right?” George asks.

“What? I just helped you eliminate a suspect!”

“Yeah, I know,” says George, walking over to the chair and kneeling beside Deirdre. “But you never told me what you dream about.”

“None of your business,” Deirdre murmurs, leaning down, close to George, and looking her in the eyes. She reaches out to smooth back a loose curl from George’s short hair, and the other girl freezes, her eyes widening in understanding. Then, incredibly, she melts into a smile, reaching up to take Deirdre’s hand in hers.

“Can I guess?” she asks, and Deirdre nods.

George leans in. “Is it something like… this?” And suddenly something feather-soft and slightly damp is fluttering against Deirdre’s neck, and she tenses up all over when she realizes the something is _George Fayne’s mouth._ This girl she hates with every fiber of her being is kissing her way along the hollow of Deirdre’s throat, and she can’t breathe for happiness.

“Deirdre?” George feels her tensing, and pulls away. “Are you okay?”

“You didn’t call me DeeDee,” she says, starstruck.

“Excuse me?”

I just… I can’t remember the last time you called me by my name. Thank you, George.” Deirdre pronounces the name slowly, carefully, drawing the two syllables out until the girl before her can’t help but notice the care Deirdre is putting into honoring her wishes, into using the right name, the right words. “Now might… ah, might be a good time for me to mention that I’m bisexual.”

“Okay,” George grins up at her. “Does that mean you’re cool with me kissing you some more? It’s all I can think about, you know. I mean, when I don’t want to strangle you, that is.”

“Funny,” Deirdre admits. “I feel the same way about you.”

“Good,” George whispers.

“Good,” Deirdre repeats. “Should we… should we get back to solving the mystery?”

“Yeah,” George says. “That’s a good idea. Here’s a clue, and it’s important.” She beckons to Deirdre, who leans in close-

And in a moment, George’s mouth is on Deirdre’s, and she’s pulling her down to the floor on top of her, their bodies pressed together as they kiss deeply, and it’s everything Deirdre’s been dreaming of.

Deirdre pulls away a moment later, completely short of breath, her lipstick smudged, rubbed off on George’s soft, makeup-free skin.

“If anyone asks, I still hate you, though,” she gasps, but George just pulls her back down into another heady kiss.

“Deal,” George breathes, before Deirdre shuts her up again in the best way she knows how.

*******


End file.
